Simple
by Saxima
Summary: A simple, peaceful night between friends stuck in the same situation.


It currently being 8:24am, and I haven't slept all night, this one-shot came from nowhere. It might be because I've been playing _New Leaf _pretty much nonstop since I've gotten it. It's so much fun! It could also be the fact that I'm really infatuated with K.K. Slider, Brewster, and some of the other special characters. They're all so wonderful. c:

Enjoy _!_

* * *

**Simple**

Another morning began, much like any other for the bartender of the café that had quickly grown popular within the two months that it had opened. Many of the residents usually popped in once a day for a cup of coffee prepared by experienced and mastered hands. He had quickly memorized how each of them took their coffee; Groucho liked it black, Merry liked hers with hazelnut cream, Hippeaux preferred three lumps of sugar instead of the one Cyrano did. All of these little details about each cup mattered a great deal to him.

Sometimes, one of the workers from Main Street would stop by, usually only at certain times of the day. For example, Tom Nook would mostly appear after midnight, or some time around then, talking of this or that to him about business. He was content with listening, and Tom was content with talking. He shared all sorts of different moments with his customers, who were various and many.

Even he had his favorites, though.

K.K. liked to show up around two different times; late afternoon until about evening, until he had to leave for his nightly gig at the popular Club LOL, and after midnight to see Tom leaving. Despite his charisma and enjoyment of pleasing the crowd, K.K. was a rather thoughtful and quiet person. Very mellow. They would exchange a few words from time to time, but they were both content on sitting in the café during a time when most other customers wouldn't come in.

'Most others' being the key phrase.

Blathers had spoken avidly about the new mayor, excited about this and that, and how they were helping the museum grow by the load. It pleased him that Blathers and Celeste were happy with how things were turning out, and that this mayor was helping the cultural knowledge and history of Poppets grow.

Whenever he took a break to head to the Gardening Store for the flowers he tended to out front of his café, Leif spoke about his favorite customer ( besides Merry, he always made it a point to mention ), the mayor. They came in every day to buy flower seeds and bulbs, and spread the flora all around the town to make it a colorful arrangement. Leif admired that the planted flowers around Poppets were so well taken care of, as they were 'sparkly' and 'brand-new-looking' every day.

He found that there was no need for him to buy his own watering can because when he went out each morning to inspect the rims of the property, all of the flowers were watered and tended to. No weeds or dandelions for miles. Every four-leaf clover found around the café was neatly tucked into a basket set by the door, which he never bothered to move because it seemed to fit.

In the mornings, before Town Hall opened, Isabelle, with her ever-cheerful demeanor, always popped in for tea, which she explained to him that she preferred over coffee. She was so sweet, he could do nothing but comply where he would usually respond with subtle disdain. She always talked animatedly about the day's plans and which new public projects would be in the works for Poppets. He listened to her tell him that no one worked harder to get the things going than the mayor.

Yes, the mayor was most certainly an interesting character. Even Tortimer liked them.

"I should stop by later and lay down some smooth beats for you, birdman," K.K. said that evening, "I never do anymore, miss the old times, y'know?"

He simply hummed in reply. In truth, he would like that, but it was good to not let K.K. know that. As a strapping young man, from now and then, he tended to let his ego show.

"Cool, man." K.K. responded, leaning back in his chair, "I'll drop in with my guitar later tonight, after work."

It was a quiet next few hours. No customers, and that was just fine. It was always nice to be in serene solitude ( even though the faint sound of soft jazz could be heard in the background ) while cleaning the various mugs, glasses, and cups that were sometimes scattered about the bar area.

A half-hour before 1:00am, it had begun to rain.

He thought, with his guitar and all, K.K. might have decided to take a raincheck. Understandable.

Fifteen minutes later, the chime of the door sounded and in walked a slightly wet Slider. He put down his rag and glasses, and opened the counter to help his friend. ". . . Sick," he said, as he took his hat, wet coat and umbrella, ". . . You're going to get sick, Totakeke."

"Don't pull the 'father' gag on me, old man." Slider said with a bit of a scoff, "I can dig a little rain." Loud thunder cracked, Slider yelped, and then the lights went out.

". . . Can you, now?" he replied, allowing himself to smile.

Just a few minutes later, candles were lit and set about the café, and a fire was lit to keep warm.

"What a drag, man," K.K. complained, leaning back into his chair, a warm towel hanging around his neck, "Oh well, not gonna stop me from layin' out a few smooth tunes."

He set himself up in one of the corners of the café, sitting in a chair and going through a short tuning session. Meanwhile, the bartender pulled up his own chair at the table next to the bar, facing K.K. and drinking a cup of coffee he had prepared for himself.

A familiar tune from the acoustic guitar began to play.

Right near the end of the 'chillout' tune, the door chimed open. A moment later, there was a sneeze, followed by sniffles. He wondered who in their right minds would come in this weather, and at this time of night.

. . . It was the Mayor.

"If it ain't Mayor Ollie," K.K. said, setting down his guitar and moving around the table to see, "Cool to see you in this rocky weather, Heather. Rainin' cats n' dogs like we're never gonna see the high sky again."

She waved to the both of them distractedly, prying her drenched, black peacoat off of herself and then set it down next to K.K.'s own brown coat.

"At least she knows how not to get sick," he muttered to K.K., who scowled in reply.

"Gosh, I hope I didn't interrupt anything!" she said cheerfully, between sniffles. "I accidentally got caught in the storm while fishing by the beach, and couldn't make it home! I almost fell into the fountain . . ." Slider failed to not laugh while she retied her black hair into a loose ponytail.

He immediately moved to the bar to begin preparing her coffee, just the way she liked it; french vanilla brew, with a splash of milk, and four teaspoons of sugar. "Better drink it while it's hot . . . Make you feel better," He slid the cup and small plate across the bar to her.

"Thank you, Brewster," she replied with a smile, and downed some of the liquid before setting the ceramic cup back in its saucer. "Delicious and perfect, as always."

Things fell back in place not too long after that. Slider was back in his chair in the corner, playing soft, mellow tunes on his guitar while Ollie and Brewster listened. The patter of the rain beat against the glass windows of the café and the storm was looking as if it wouldn't let up any time soon.

"I hope none of the flowers are ruined," Ollie noted between a break of songs, "Leif wouldn't be very happy. I'll have to try to catch the shark, tomorrow, too. Blathers really wants it for the museum's collection."

The two other occupants of the café listened to their mayor go on about happenings and other things about Poppets. When she would finish, K.K. would play a song, and during either time, Brewster prepared them coffee and other snacks to last them the night. It had been nice; a simple, peaceful night between friends all stuck in the same situation.

The storm lasted all night and didn't let up until late morning.

The door chimed and in walked Isabelle, who looked slightly frantic, "Brewster, have you seen - " she began, but was then shushed, as he motioned to the two figures lying on futons on the floor while the table and chairs were pushed to the side of the room to have made space. "Eep, sorry!" she whispered, and then moved to the two of them on the floor.

She giggled and looked at Brewster. "You three had a sleepover and didn't invite me!" she asked playfully, "I was hoping Miss Ollie would be here — when I didn't find her at home, I was worried!"

The voice of her secretary roused the young mayor into a sitting position from the futon, rubbing at her blue eyes tiredly, and yawning. The same affect came to K.K., who followed in the mayor's steps of waking up.

"Good morning, Miss Ollie!" Isabelle sang, "I see you're having a bit of a late start, but that's okay. I'll see you soon, at town hall, and we'll go over the day's itinerary."

Ollie sleepily nodded in reply and then Isabelle was off, too fast for any of them at the moment.

"Groovy mornin'," Slider commented, almost sarcastically as they cleared away the futons and reset the table and chairs.

When done, Ollie and K.K. took seat at the bar. Brewster had swiftly prepared coffee for the three of them, and they made a simple toast: To friends stuck in the same situation.


End file.
